Sex Ed
by allthingsdecent
Summary: Cuddy is accused of sexual harassment!


**Hello lovelies:**

**So this is surprisingly fluffy considering the subject matter. It's definitely one of those fics where House is maybe a little too good to be true. But what can I say, I love me some chivalrous House. (And his chivalry shows up a lot in canon, especially where Cuddy is concerned.) Hopefully, there's a teeny bit of meat in the middle before we get back to our regularly scheduled squeeing. And yeah, I'm aware of the somewhat abrupt (and, okay, lame) resolution to my saga. I kinda just ran out of ideas. But I hope you like it anyway. It was fun to write. xo, atd**

**p.s. If you're on Facebook, please like my girl JuLia's We Wanna Watch Thunder Roadtrip fan page. Hey, it can't hurt, right?**

"Who's the Backstreet Boy talking to Cuddy?" House said, scowling in the direction of Cuddy's table, where she was sitting with a handsome young man in his mid-20s.

"That's Kyle, one of the nurse anesthetists!" Wilson said. "You really don't recognize him?"

"I can barely keep the _female_ nurses straight," House said. "You think I'm going to remember the male ones?"

He glanced at them again.

"Why are they having lunch together? Does Cuddy need a new pool boy?"

Wilson shook his head.

"I have no idea why they're having lunch together. Maybe they're friends."

"Negative," House said. "I know all of Cuddy's _friend_."

He idly tapped his fork on the table. "And what could she possibly have in common with that meathead? A similar taste in PlayStation games? A finer appreciation of Adam Sandler films?"

"He's a great nurse. And he's hoping to get his Master's in Hospital Administration," Wilson said. "Come to think of it, maybe that's why they're talking. He's _probing_ her mind."

"That's not the only thing he's trying to probe," House said, irritably.

"She's a little old for him, don't ya think?" Wilson said, amused.

House shot him an annoyed look.

"Are you kidding? To a frat boy like him, Cuddy is the ultimate BILF."

"BILF?"

"Boss I'd like to. . ."

"I get it."

"She'd be a notch in his Abercrombie and Fitch belt."

"I'm sure their relationship is strictly professional. And, if it's not, I'm sure that it's strictly none of our business."

House folded his arms.

"Look at how she's laughing at his jokes. Like he's some sort of wit."

"Actually, he's a pretty funny guy," Wilson said.

"_Actually, he's a pretty funny guy_," House mimicked.

Then he rolled his eyes and pretended not to be watching them.

####

The next day, Cuddy joined House and Wilson for lunch.

"Where's Justin?" House asked.

"He means Kyle," Wilson said, swallowing a bite of his tuna sandwich.

"What about him?" Cuddy said.

"Couldn't help but to notice you hanging on his every monosyllabic word yesterday," House said.

"I was not," Cuddy said, a bit defensive. "I'm helping him with his thesis. He's studying to be a hospital administrator."

"Told ya!" Wilson said.

"You must've misheard," said House. "He doesn't want to _become _a hospital administrator. He wants to _bone_ a hospital administrator. Common mistake."

"I just wrote him a letter of recommendation for a Master's Degree Program. He bought me lunch to express his gratitude." Cuddy said.

"I'm sure he wants to show you just how grateful he is."

Cuddy began to protest, then stopped herself.

"Well, he is pretty dreamy," she said, provocatively, twirling her hair.

Wilson put his head in his hands, seeing where this was going.

"Have you ever touched his arms?" she said, with exaggerated admiration. "He's got arms like . . . legs. And he has a _full_ head of luxurious _non-thinning_ hair that you just want to run your fingers through. Plus he has such stamina! He can go all night. . . in the OR."

"Cute," House said. "I never took you for a cradle robber, Cuddy."

"I prefer to think of myself more as a cougar," Cuddy said, laughing devilishly.

House glared at Cuddy and she glared back. They were in a bit of a standoff.

Wilson stood up, took his tray.

"This has been swell," he said. "I'd love to watch you two shoot mixed signals at each other for the rest of my lunch, but I think I have some important faxing to do."

They both watched him walk away.

"What's his problem?" Cuddy said.

"Beats me," House said.

They shrugged at each other.

"So. . .Brandon?" House said.

"Kyle!"

"You really like that boy scout?"

"I don't date boys, House. I date men."

"Actually, you don't date at all."

"Well, there's that. . ." she admitted.

"Just be careful," House said. "I saw the way he was looking at you yesterday. It was positively predatory."

"So he has a crush," Cuddy said breezily.

"I'm serious. He was making a porn film with his eyes. With you in the role of Sexy Deaninatrix."

Cuddy took a sip of her iced tea and gave House a playful look.

"He was or _you_ were?"

#####

Two days later, House passed Cuddy in the hallway, just as she was walking away from Kyle at the nurse's station.

"See ya tonight then, Dr. Cuddy," Kyle yelled after her.

Instead of continuing toward the vending machine, his intended destination, he followed Cuddy into her office.

"_Tonight_?" House said.

"Yes, tonight. I'm taking one last look at Kyle's thesis before he submits it."

"Where? In a hotel room?"

"In my office, House. I promise not to have maintenance pipe in any Al Green music or provide any mood lighting."

"He's going to make his move."

"He's going to show me a Power Point print out."

"Bring mace," House said.

"I'll bring a red pen," Cuddy said.

Again, they looked at each other.

"Don't come crying to me when Kyle goes all 'hot for teacher' on you tonight," House said.

#####

House stayed past 10 pm, ostensibly to work on his case, but mostly to check in on Cuddy and Kyle. If they were still in her office, he had a lie all planned to break it up. (He was going to tell Cuddy that he spotted an old man in a hospital gown muttering to himself and heading toward the roof.)

But Cuddy's office was empty—tidy and dark. House wasn't sure how to take that: Their study session was already over? Or had they merely taken it elsewhere, perhaps someplace more intimate?

He frowned.

He made his way into the parking lot. Her car was still there. Shit! Did that mean she had driven _home_ with the little twerp?

Then he looked closer and realized that Cuddy was actually _in_ her car.

He limped over, banged on the passenger side glass. She practically jumped out of her skin.

"Jesus!" he heard her say through the door.

He gestured for her to open he door, which she did.

"Jumpy much?" House said, sliding in next to her.

"It's the middle of the night in a nearly empty parking lot. They make actual horror films about this sort of thing."

"Where's the boy toy?" House said. "Couldn't drive with you because you didn't have a child safety seat in the back?"

"He went home," Cuddy said, bitterly.

"How'd it go? Was Connor's Power Point on point?"

Cuddy looked at the steering wheel.

"I don't want to talk about it," she said.

He suddenly realized that she hadn't corrected him when he gave Kyle the wrong name.

"Hey," he said, inspecting her more closely. "You okay?"

"I said I don't want to talk about it," Cuddy said.

"Cuddy," House said leadingly. "Look at me."

Slightly defiant, she turned and looked at him. Her face was splotchy and her eyes were rimmed with red.

"What the fuck?" House said. "Why are you crying?"

"You specifically said not to come crying to you," Cuddy sniffed.

"I lied. Why are you crying?"

"He. . . made a pass at me."

House grit his teeth.

"That little bitch. . ."

It took all of House's energy to suppress an "I told you so."

"And. . .?" he said. A horrifying thought crossed his mind. "He didn't. . .?"

"No, nothing like that," Cuddy said hastily. "He just got a little handsy. And then when I rebuffed his advances, he called me a"—she lowered her voice—"cock tease."

"So how shortly after that did you fire him?" House said, trying—with little success—to contain his rage.

Cuddy sighed.

"I didn't. I feel like this was somehow my fault."

"It wasn't."

"I should've known better."

"You didn't do anything wrong."

"_You_ noticed that he was into me!" Cuddy said.

"I assume all men are into you," House said. "Probably because they are."

If she was flattered by the compliment, it didn't show. She sniffled loudly.

House reached futilely into his pocket for a handkerchief. Of course, he didn't have one.

Instead, he offered Cuddy his sleeve.

She giggled a bit, much to his relief.

"I have Kleenex in the glove compartment," she said.

He handed her one.

"I didn't fire Kyle," Cuddy said, blowing her nose. "But suffice it to say, I'm glad I didn't give him that promotion he applied for."

"What promotion?"

"He applied for that head nurses' position in his department. I gave it to Carol Waters instead. She has seniority over him. She deserved it."

"And I'll be happy to give Kyle exactly what he deserves the next time I see him."

Cuddy looked at him.

"House, stay out of it, okay?" Her voice was warm, but firm.

"I'm out of it," he mumbled, unconvincingly.

"I'm serious. I know you think you're protecting me. But I just want to put this whole embarrassing incident behind me, okay?"

"Okay. . ." he said.

"And don't tell anyone what happened. I will continue to rely on your discretion." (A reference to her fertility shots.)

"I won't tell a soul," he said.

"Thanks," she said, with a chuckle. "Now get out of my car."

He obediently got out.

Then she rolled down the window.

"House. You're a good friend."

"If I had a dime for every time I heard that. . ."

"You'd have a dime," Cuddy finished with him. And they both laughed.

"Good night, Cuddy."

"Good night, House."

#####

A few days later, House sensed a buzz in the cafeteria.

He sat across from Wilson, wielding a grape slushee, and grabbed half his friend's BLT.

"Did Nurse Charlotte have another one of her 'accidental' nip slips again?" he asked.

"You don't know?" Wilson said.

"Know what?" House said, chucking the tomatoes and the lettuce so he was just basically eating a bacon sandwich.

"Nurse Kyle has sued the hospital," Wilson said, keeping his voice low.

"He _what_?"

"Yeah, he's accusing Cuddy of sexual harassment."

House practically gagged on a piece of bread.

"You're shitting me," he said.

"Nope. He claims that Cuddy hit on him numerous times, and when he rejected her advances, she recanted her promise to give him a promotion."

"That lying piece of pond scum," House said.

"So needless to say, it's the talk of the hospital. She could actually lose her job over this."

"How's Cuddy?" House asked.

"She's upset. Angry. Humiliated. She was in with Human Resources all morning. I haven't spoken to her since."

"I'll let you know how she is," House said, popping up.

Wilson gave him a skeptical look.

"Go easy on her, House," he said.

"When don't I go easy on her?" House said.

"Umm, the days of the week ending with 'day,'" Wilson said.

"I'll have you know that just three days ago Cuddy said to me, and I quote: 'You're a good friend.'"

"Was she high?"

But House ignored him and headed toward the exit. On the way out, he overheard two of the doctors—Reed, a pulmonologist, and Janowitz, an enterologist— talking.

"I'm really surprised this hasn't happened sooner," Reed said.

"What do you mean?" Janowitz said.

"You've seen the way she dresses. She flaunts it."

_Cuddy_.

"How many times has she come into your office and leaned down so you could see right into her blouse?" Reed was saying. "You think that's an _accident_?"

With that, House, who had been lurking near their table, pretended to trip. The contents of his tray, including his grape slushee, landed on Reed's lap.

"House, you asshole!" Reed sputtered. "You did that on purpose."

"Sorry," House said, rubbing his leg. "Cripple."

Reed stood up angrily and attempted, in vain, to shake the icy liquid off his pants.

"That's really going to be awkward, walking around with a giant purple stain on your crotch all day," House said. "My bad."

#####

Cuddy's door was closed but House barged in anyway.

She was sitting at her desk, with her head in her hands, as though she had a really horrible headache.

"Vicodin helps," House said, trying to be funny.

She looked up.

"You heard?"

"Everyone's heard," House admitted. "You're the talk of the hospital."

"Great," she sighed. "And everyone thinks I did it, right?"

"Um, inconclusive," House said. (That wasn't quite a lie—he'd heard just as many Cuddy defenders as detractors as he made his way down the hall. He only wished he had more grape slushees to hurl at the detractors.)

"It's great to be me," Cuddy said ironically.

"Cuddy, I'm so sorry." House said.

"I know you are. . ."

"If there's anything I can do to help. . ."

She looked up. There was a surprising trace of anger in her face.

"I think you've helped more than enough," she said sharply.

"Meaning?"

She shook her head.

"Forget it. I don't want to start something with you."

"You already started it," House said.

Her eyes defiantly met his.

"Do you have any idea what it is to be an attractive woman running an entire hospital?" she said.

"Obviously you're about to tell me," he said, meeting her gaze.

"It's hard. You have to be twice as good to get half the respect. People will always accuse you of sleeping your way to the top. Or getting by on your looks. And you have to grin and bear it and pretend you don't hear the constant speculation about your sex life. The constant sexual innuendo."

"That must suck," House said, nervously scratching his head.

"But don't you see? _You're_ part of the problem! You've made it worse!"

House shrunk a bit in the face of her anger.

"All your leers. All your lewd comments about me in front of your staff. BRING ME THE THONG OF LISA CUDDY?" She was shouting now. "Do you realize how disrespectful that is? How diminishing in the eyes of your fellows?"

"I'm. . .sorry," he said, sheepishly.

"Remember the time you told me I put 'her ass' in harassment?" Cuddy said. "Not so funny now, is it?"

She was on a roll now.

House bowed his head.

"No," he said, feeling like an idiot. "I didn't realize. I didn't know. . ."

She exhaled a bit, finally softened her tone.

"Look, House. I know this is not your fault, and I know you're just trying to be a friend, but I just can't deal with you right now, okay? I want you to leave my office."

House opened his mouth, started to say something, but thought better of it and left.

#####

Later that night, there was a knock on House's door.

He opened it.

Cuddy was standing there, looking as unglamorous as he could ever remember seeing her. Her hair wasn't brushed, she was wearing little, if any, makeup, and she was clad in jeans and a white tee-shirt. (In fact, she and House were unconsciously mirroring each other.) House thought she looked pretty.

"I come in peace," she said, with a half smile.

"In that case, come in," he said.

"I'm here to apologize," she said, once she had stepped inside. Her noticed that her pupils were the slightest bit dilated. So she had used some liquid courage before coming over. Or maybe she was just drowning her sorrows. "I was a total bitch to you today."

"And I totally deserved it," House said. He had been thinking a lot about what she had said. He felt like an ass. It had all been a game to him. It never occurred to him there might be real-life consequences.

"No," she said, sitting on his couch. He cautiously sat down next to her. "You didn't."

He gave her a somewhat searching look.

"We flirt," Cuddy said. "It's what we do. Sometimes your lewd comments annoy me. Sometimes they flatter me. I can't suddenly change the rules in the middle of the game. Not when I helped write the rules. Not when it's a game I've been playing, too."

"You're good at it," he said, smiling a bit.

"So are you," she said.

She leaned back on the couch and gave him a weary smile.

"So what are you going to do?" House said.

"Tomorrow, the hospital lawyers and HR start a formal investigation into the case. And on their advice, I hired a lawyer of my own."

"Christ," House said. "You should've let me sic my goons on that little cretin when I had the chance."

He was trying to cheer her up.

"You have goons?" she said, playing along.

"Taub is surprisingly intimidating. In the dark. When he's standing on Foreman's shoulders."

She gave a grim laugh.

Then, unexpectedly, she took his hand.

"Thanks," she said.

"For what?"

"For being there. You're the only one who knows the whole story. Well, outside of my lawyer."

"I'm always here for you," he said.

"I actually believe that to be true," she said, thoughtfully.

She squeezed his hand a bit—and then sort of began stroking it.

House looked down. She was beginning to turn him on. Intentionally?

Suddenly, she turned and gave him a light kiss on the lips. She hadn't even parted her lips, but the feel of her mouth on his shot straight between his legs.

"Hi," she said, in a sleepy, sexy sort of way.

"Hi," he said, looking at her—excited, confused.

She kissed him again, harder this time—a small bit of her tongue entering his mouth. She caressed his face.

He felt his own breathing grow heavy.

"Cuddy, what are you doing?"

"This," she said—straddling him, and beginning to kiss him more deeply.

He kissed back, put his hands on her slender hips. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been this turned on. His face felt like it was 140 degrees.

"No. . .I mean. . . we shouldn't. . .this is probably not a good. . ." But as he was talking, he was kissing her, tasting her mouth, feeling her skin. His brain was telling him one thing, his body was doing the opposite.

"I need a distraction," she said, reaching under his shirt, fondling his back and waist. "And you've always been my favorite distraction." Then, reaching for his belt buckle, she whispered: "Do you have a condom?"

He was 18 years old the first time a girl had asked him that. He had loved it then—the girl taking control, plainly saying she wanted to have sex with him—and he loved it even more now.

But somehow—improbably, impressively—he managed to come to his senses. He wanted Lisa Cuddy with every molecule of his body, but this was not what she needed. So he literally lifted her off him and placed her next to him on the couch.

"Cuddy, you're being sued for sexual harassment. Now is probably not a good time to be fucking one of your employees."

The truth of his words instantly sobered them both.

"I'm sorry," she said, sheepishly, pulling down her shirt, which had managed to hike up to her bra.

"No, I'm the one who's sorry," he said, taking one last longing look at her. "You have no idea how much," he muttered, under his breath.

"I swear to God, House, I'm losing it," she sighed, slumping back into the couch.

"No you're not. You're fine."

She stood up, hastily.

"I should go," she said heading to the door. Then she turned to him: "They'll want to talk to you tomorrow. The lawyers, I mean. You and Wilson both."

"I have nothing to tell," House said.

She smiled—then she reached out and gave him a hug. She bent her head into his chest.

"You're a good friend. Have I mentioned that lately?" she said.

"It's come up a few times," he said, smiling.

He opened the door from the top and she slipped under his arm and he watched her trudge down the hall.

He sighed.

House didn't believe in karma, but if he did, he'd have a truckload of karma coming his way.

"Saint fucking House," he grumbled to himself.

And he went to the bathroom to beat off.

#######

The next day, House and Wilson sat in an office across from the hospital's director of HR, plus three lawyers (one each for Cuddy and Kyle, plus one representing the hospital).

House was squirming a bit and looked bored—like a teenager who had been called to the principal's office. Wilson was listening intently and nodding.

"This is just a fact-finding conversation," the HR guy was saying. "But we would like you to take this investigation as seriously as if this was a court of law. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Wilson said.

"Serious is my middle name," House said. "First name, Yahoo."

The HR guy, who knew House all too well, ignored him.

"I know both of you men are close to Dr. Cuddy. Have either of you ever been with her when she was in the presence of Nurse Kyle?"

"No," they said in unison.

"Have you heard her discuss him?"

"No," House said, quickly.

Wilson looked at him, a bit shocked.

"Well, there was that one time. . ." he sputtered. "Remember?"

House shot him a death glare.

"I don't recall," he said sharply.

"What one time?" Kyle's lawyer said.

"It was a conversation. We were just joking around. Nothing to take serious," Wilson said. His neck was getting red.

"Why don't you let us be the judge of whether or not to take it seriously," the hospital lawyer said.

"She was. . .she was just teasing House," Wilson said. Now he was the one who was squirming. "Talking about how handsome Kyle was."

All three lawyers scribbled something onto their legal pads.

"It wasn't about Kyle. It was about House. She was. . .messing with him." Now he turned imploringly to his friend: "C'mon House! You were there!"

"I must not have been paying attention," House said, grinding his teeth.

"What else did she say? When she was teasing Dr. House?" Kyle's lawyer said.

"She said she . . . liked to think of herself as a cougar," Wilson practically whispered.

"I'm sorry. What was that?"

Wilson gulped.

"She said she liked to think of herself as a cougar."

More scribbles on notepads.

"Thank you, Dr. Wilson. That was very helpful," the HR guy said.

#####

After they were dismissed, Wilson turned helplessly to House.

"Thanks for having my back in there," he said.

House grabbed his arm so hard the skin turned white.

"You idiot! Do you realize what you just did?"

"I . . .I . . . told the truth."

"You're going to get her fired! Are you constitutionally incapable of keeping your mouth shut?"

Wilson's arm was beginning to hurt.

He tried to shake House off.

"Let go, House!" he said.

"I thought the Tritter thing was an isolated incident. But you're a real Judas, you know that?"

Now, not only was Wilson getting angry, their heated conversation had attracted the attention of curious onlookers, including several doctors and nurses.

Wilson suddenly felt embarrassed.

"I said, get off of me," he said. And he pushed House back.

Quickly—so quickly it took them both by surprise—House reared back and clocked Wilson hard in the eye.

Wilson crumpled to the ground, almost as much from shock as from pain.

Three female nurses immediately rushed to his side.

"You boys may as well turn around and go right back into HR," Nurse Jeffrey said, clucking his tongue, as he passed the tableaux.

House looked at his fist, then looked at his friend, who was sitting up and clearly conscious, and limped away.

#####

The next day, Cuddy stood in Wilson's office door, cleared her throat.

Wilson looked up. He had a pretty nice shiner right under his left eye.

"So the rumors are true?"

"That David Beckham was traded to the Galaxy?" Wilson said. "Yes, it's true."

Cuddy stepped toward him.

"Does it hurt?" she asked.

"Only my pride," Wilson said.

"And _House_ did that to you?"

"Imagine how much damage he could've done if he had _two _good legs."

"What for?"

"We, um, had a fight."

"No shit, Sherlock. What about?"

"I'd. . .rather not say."

"Has he apologized?"

"For him to apologize, he'd have to be speaking to me. Which he's not."

"House is . . .holding a grudge?" Cuddy said musingly. "I've never known him to care about anything enough to hold a grudge."

Wilson gave a sad smile and gestured for Cuddy to sit.

"If you must know," he said. "The fight was about you."  
#####

That night, another knock on House's door. He peered through the peep hole. Cuddy. . .and Wilson.

_Shit_.

He opened the door.

"_You_ can come in," he said to Cuddy. "He's not welcome."

"Wilson told me what happened," Cuddy said.

"I strongly doubt that," House said.

"He told the investigation team that I referred to myself as a cougar."

"Okay, so he did tell you what happened," House conceded, still not letting them in.

"And I forgave him," Cuddy said, putting a hand on Wilson's shoulder.

"Then you're more forgiving than I am," House said.

"He just told the truth. It's what he does," Cuddy said, with a fond smile.

House clenched his jaw a bit.

"If I can forgive him, you can too," Cuddy said. "Now let us in."

House reluctantly opened the door.

"I can't have you two in a fight right now," Cuddy said. "I need as much normalcy as possible."

She turned to Wilson: "Wilson, apologize to him."

"Me apologize to _him_?" Wilson said. "He's the one who punched me."

"Wilson, apologize!"

"Yeah Wilson," House said. "Apologize."

Wilson sighed.

"I'm sorry I couldn't keep my damn trap shut during our interview."

"Excellent," Cuddy said. "Now House. Apologize for giving your best friend a black eye."

"Thank you!" Wilson said, as if someone had finally noticed that he was the injured party here.

House looked at Cuddy, then looked at Wilson.

"I'm sorry your idiotic behavior forced me to hit you," he said.

"Close enough," Cuddy said. "Now shake."

And the two men shook hands.

"Excellent," Cuddy said. "Now I can get some sleep. My hearing is tomorrow so I couldn't have this hanging over me. You two boys have a drink together, watch some Zombie Trucks, or whatever it is that you do. I'm going home."

And she kissed them both on the cheek and left.

House and Wilson looked at each other.

"What a woman," Wilson said.

"Scotch?" House said.

#######

At about 3 in the morning, Cuddy's phone rang. She groaned, reached for it.

"House, I told you, my hearing is in"—she looked at her clock—"six hours."

"When did you write Kyle a letter of recommendation for graduate school?" House said. There was that slightly manic quality he got in his voice, when he was about to solve a case.

"What?" She sat up, rubbed her eyes.

"You told me that you wrote Kyle a letter of recommendation for graduate school. When?"

Cuddy tried to shake the cobwebs out.

"Umm, May 17th, I think it was," she said.

"And when did you promote Carol Waters over Kyle?"

"May 10th."

"So according to Kyle's suit: You didn't give him a promotion because he rebuffed your advances. But you _did_ write him a letter of recommendation for graduation school a week later? Makes no sense."

Now Cuddy was wide awake.

"You're right!" she said. "It doesn't make sense."

"Do you have a paper trail of both things?"

"Of course I have a paper trail. I'm an administrator."

"I think the little shit is about to go down."  
######

House was right. The evidence of the letter of recommendation (coupled with anecdotal evidence from Kyle's fellow nurses that he had been boasting about getting between the sheets with the Dean of Medicine for months), was too much for him to overcome.

He was finally forced to admit that he had made the whole sexual harassment thing up. He was terminated immediately and escorted out of the hospital by security.

"Walk of shame," Nurse Jeffrey said, as he passed.

That night, House and Wilson and Cuddy went out drinking to celebrate.

"I always knew your giant brain was going to come in handy one day," Cuddy said to House, beaming.

"To House's giant brain!" Wilson said, raising his glass. "May he always lead with his brain, and not his fists."

House smiled guiltily.

"So how do you feel?" Wilson asked Cuddy.

"Exhilarated. Exonerated. Exhausted," Cuddy said.

"You must be exhausted," Wilson said. "Poor kid."

"Yeah, but at the same time, I'm so wound up, I feel like I won't be able to get any sleep tonight," she said. Then she gave House a mischievous look. "If only I had some sort of distraction."

And House practically fell off his barstool.

THE END


End file.
